


If I Were A Bat Would You Let Me Hit That?

by sweetbutterbliss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Baseball Player Derek, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Frottage, Kid Fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Parent Derek, Parent Stiles, Single Parent Derek, Single Parent Stiles Stilinski, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 15:19:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14138826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbutterbliss/pseuds/sweetbutterbliss
Summary: Coach Derek is kind of scary, he’s standing totally still with his arms crossed over his chest, which just makes his Dad’s constant flailing look even worse.“They’re standing awfully close,” the girl comments.They’re practically nose to nose, and if they weren’t arguing Evan would think they were about to kiss.  He feels his ears heat up with embarrassment and wishes again for his Dad to just give up already.





	If I Were A Bat Would You Let Me Hit That?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to Glompfest. Prompt in the end notes.
> 
> Beta'd by Heather, as always.
> 
> Also, how cool is it that my scheduled posting day just happened to be on Opening Day!
> 
> Edited to add : I can't find the person who prompted this for glompfest. I tried to contact the mods but I haven't heard anything. If you are the person who prompted it please let me know so I can give you credit!

“There isn’t anything I can do, son,” John leans back in his desk chair and folds his hands over his stomach, getting comfortable for his son’s inevitable rant. 

“But Dad, Derek Hale! I have to coach Little League with Derek fucking Hale,” Stiles’ pitch rises, his hair is standing on end from being aggressively tugged. 

“We just don’t have the resources to support two teams. And last time I checked, you didn’t even have enough kids to fill the roster. Besides, the Hales are very generous, don’t you want your kids to benefit from that?”

“Yeah, but Derek is such a smug asshole. Ever since high school,” Stiles crosses his arms and pushes out his lower lip.

“If he was such an asshole why do I remember you dragging Scott to everyone of his games? Even the away ones,” John responds.

Stiles mumbles something that sounds like “School spirit,” and turns to face the window.

“You’re just going to have to learn to get along, son. I don’t make the rules. I just enforce them,” John grins, pleased with his own joke, and ignores his adult son’s eye roll.

***

Evan can feel the heat of the metal bleachers through his shorts and his glasses keep sliding off his sweaty nose. He pushes them back up and sighs heavily. They were supposed to be getting pizza, but instead he’s sitting next to the field staring at his dirty sneakers and pulling at the laces on his glove. 

“Here,” A voice interrupts his sulking and an ice cream cone is pushed into his face. He grabs it to stop it from getting on his nose and looks up. It’s one of his new teammates; her dark hair is pulled back into what must’ve once been a braid but is now just a tangled, sweaty mess.

“Thank you.”

She sits down heavily next to him and bites the tip of the ice cream swirl off. Evan grimaces, imagining how that would hurt his teeth and licks the tip like a normal person. 

“I got it from the palatero over there,” she gestures to a tired man pushing a hand cart around the park. “I always get one after practice. He says I’m his best customer.” 

Evan hums around his ice cream and eyes his dad, willing him to stop arguing with Coach Derek. He can faintly hear their voices but not what they’re saying, and he knows it’s not good. Coach Derek is kind of scary, he’s standing totally still with his arms crossed over his chest, which just makes his Dad’s constant flailing look even worse. 

“They’re standing awfully close,” the girl comments.

They’re practically nose to nose, and if they weren’t arguing Evan would think they were about to kiss. He feels his ears heat up with embarrassment and wishes again for his Dad to just give up already.

“I’m Jo,” the girl holds out a sticky hand and Evan shakes it gingerly, before trying to subtly wipe it off on his shorts. 

“Evan. You’re really good.”

“Yeah? Thanks. You fall down a lot but you have a good swing. Maybe you just need to stand still more.”

“Gee, thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“What are you still doing here?” he asks between licks of his rapidly melting cone.

“Oh, Coach Derek is my Dad. It feels weird to call him that. I keep wanting to call him Coach Dad." she laughs so loudly and genuine, that Evan can’t help laugh with her. 

“Coach Stiles is my Dad,” he confesses, sighing heavily.

“Oh, he’s really funny! I like the way he looks like a scarecrow when he runs.” 

Evan laughs again. 

“What are they even arguing about? I thought we did really good today.”

Evan shrugs and they sit in silence for a little while, crunching on the cone bottom. 

“The cone is my favorite part,” Evan says after he’s done. 

“Me too!” they smile at each other. 

“Jo! It’s time to go!” Coach Derek shouts, walking toward his shiny black car.

“I love how he acts like I’m the one holding him up,” she rolls her eyes and hops up. “See you around!”

Evan waves goodbye and hauls himself off the bench toward his dad. “You making friends, buddy?” he asks. 

“I guess. Can we go now? I’m hungry.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry. I just got so wrapped up in Derek...I mean...in telling Derek what’s what,” his ears are red and Evan wishes they didn’t share that particular genetic feature. He pushes his glasses up and helps his dad carry the bat bag to the jeep.

***

It looks like the entire town is spread out across the square. There are vendors selling cheap toys and cotton candy walking around, and Derek just knows Jo will talk him into buying both by the end of the day. Right now she’s content to sit in the middle of his crossed legs and snuggle up against him. He rests his chin on her shiny head and tries not to think about how she used to just fit in the crook of his arm, and now she’s all long legs and pointy elbows that barely fit in his lap anymore. 

Laura is scoping the crowd and making comments on people they’ve known all their lives. She’s visiting from New York and likes to make fun of small town life, as though she isn’t here for the parade just like everyone else. 

“Damn, is that Stiles Stilinski?” she shades her eyes and points to a man in a deputy’s uniform bent over a car, his forearms resting against the windowsill, and smiling at its passenger. Derek swallows and closes his eyes. 

Jo clambors out of his lap, elbowing him in the chin, and shouts. “Coach Stiles! Over here.” 

Stiles straightens and smiles at Jo before walking toward them. His smile falters a little when he sees Derek, but it comes back when Jo runs to meet him and almost slams into him. 

“This is my Aunt Laura,” she leads him by one hand and presents Laura with a flourish. 

“We’ve actually met,” Stiles nods at Laura. “Hey Laura! Derek.” 

“But she doesn’t live here,” Jo frowns up at the deputy. 

“Yeah, but because I’m the law I know everything,” He waggles his eyebrows at her wide eyed face. “Like, I know for sure that Evan is at the face painting booth and was looking forward to seeing you.” 

“Can I go, Dad?” she turns her big eyes on him and clasps her hands to her chest. 

Derek sighs and digs out his wallet. He hands her a ten and doesn’t even bother asking for change before she grabs it and runs off toward the booths. 

“So, little Stiles Stilinski,” Laura raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Not so little anymore.” 

Stiles blushes and pushes his hands into his pockets. “Uhh. I guess. How’s New York?”

Derek tunes out Laura’s flirting and tries not to stare at Stiles in his uniform. The way Stiles angles his body toward Laura puts his ass right in Derek’s face, and it’s a nice ass in a well tailored uniform. He had hoped that repeated exposure to it in baseball pants during practices might have offered him some resistance. But no, all he could think about was biting it. 

“Derek?” Laura is laughing at him and he knows he’s blushing. 

“What.” he scowls at both of them. 

“Stiles was just telling me that Jo and his son are BFFs.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, and hopes he hadn’t been obvious with his staring. 

“Oooookay. Well. I have to go. Duty calls,” Stiles frowns at him and abruptly walks away.

“Damn, son,” Laura sighs and leans back on her hands. “Would you look at that ass!”

“Shut up, Laura.” 

“Oh right? I totally forgot. You had the most enormous crush on him all through high school. How ever did I forget? I mean, you only told us how smart and pretty he was almost every single day.”

“I will rip your throat out. With my teeth,” Derek growls.

“Oh, don’t be so sensitive. It’s not my fault you can’t control your murder face.” 

Derek snaps his teeth at her and she laughs when he shoves her over on her side. 

***

Jo tosses the ball to Evan who manages to somehow fumble it into his glove. She’d asked him once if his dad made him play because he wasn’t terrible but he also wasn’t very good. He’d laughed and told her that baseball had actually been his idea, and his dad had only ended up coaching because of him. 

“It’s just fun!”

That part she could understand. She loves baseball and she has ‘natural talent.’ (That’s what her Grandma had told her. _”Just like your Dad.”_ ) So what if Evan would rather stand in the outfield daydreaming, he likes doing it and that’s all that matters.

What she doesn’t understand is why their parents are arguing. Again. 

“This is so boring!” she whines and throws the ball a little harder than she means to. Evan winces and she pulls a face at him. “Don’t be a baby.”

“Don’t be such a girl!” Evan grins at her, showing off the new gap where one of his front teeth had fallen out last week. 

She looks around to see if her dad is paying attention, and of course he isn’t, so she flips Evan off as he laughs at her. 

They shuffle closer in the dirt. “I don’t understand why they’re arguing after we won. I mean...we won!” Evan throws his hands up.

“Seriously! All the pizza is gonna be gone by the time we get to the party! We should be celebrating!” she’s a little horrified to feel her eyes welling up. Her dad hasn’t even told her she did good job or anything! He’d just stomped off to talk to Coach Stiles and now they’ve ended up shouting in each other’s faces. Again.

Evan’s mouth twists to the side and his eyes narrow. “Alright. That’s it!” 

He stomps over to their parents and kicks his dad in back of his leg. Coach Stiles squawks and falls face first into Jo’s dad, both of them falling into the dirt sprawled in a heap. Evan just glares down at them and Jo is so surprised that any thought of tears disappears. She’s still bent over laughing by the time her dad comes over to scold her for being a bad influence. 

***  
“Okay. But you won, right?” Scott squints at Stiles over his hamburger. 

“I mean, yeah. But no thanks to him!” Stiles aggressively dips his french fries into his little ketchup cup. 

“I think Coach Derek is a great coach,” Evan pipes up. 

“Shh!You little traitor knee kicker,” Stiles pushes his kid’s hat down over his eyes and ignores Scott’s laugh. 

“I wish I’d been there. Way to go buddy,” Scott holds out his hand for a high five that Evan returns with force. 

“You’re no longer my best friend,” Stiles sniffs.

“Dude. You guys make a great team. Everyone says the ‘Wolf Pack’ is going to make it to State at least. And that’s thanks to both of you.”

“I guess.” 

“Hey, I’ve seen your practices. Don’t get me wrong, you have totally different styles. Heh, Stiles, styles. Get it,” Scott laughs to himself.

Stiles glares at him and chews on his straw. “No. I’ve never heard that before.” 

“You just don’t appreciate my comedic genius. Evan here does.” 

Evan nods enthusiastically, mustard smeared around his mouth. “Yup.”

“Traitor,” Stiles hisses around the straw. 

Evan swings his legs happily and giggles to himself. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, bucko,” Stiles points. “Now carry on, Scott. You were saying…”

“Anyway. You’re all manic, flaily supportive,” Scott demonstrates, nearly knocking over his own drink with his sweeping hands. “And Derek has this serious-game-face supportive thing. Also, you know he knows what he’s talking about.”

“Hey! I know what I’m talking about,” Stiles protests. 

“Yeah, but he’s actually done it.”

“Wow. Thanks,” Stiles crumples up his napkin. 

“Why do you hate Coach Hale so much, Dad?” Evan has a fistful of fries shoved in his mouth and is spitting them out as he talks. 

“Gross, kiddo. Chew and swallow, please.”

Evan makes a big show of chewing and tilts his head back to show he’s swallowing. “So, why do you hate him?”

“Hate’s a strong word,” Stiles responds half heartedly. 

“Yeah. I’d use probably the opposite of that,” Scott smirks and raises his eyebrow. 

“I will kick you,” Stiles warns.

“Must run in the family,” Scott pushes his chair back out of kicking range. “By all means, why do you ‘hate’ Coach Hale?” the asshole actually makes finger quotes. 

“Because he’s an ass...a-hole,” he corrects himself too late. 

“Swear jar!” Evan cheerfully scolds. “And he’s not an a-hole, he’s really nice. You always pick fights with him. I know he thinks you’re funny, he’s always laughing at your jokes. Even the lame ones.”

“Even the lame ones, Stiles,” Scott beams at him. 

“It’s complicated, kid. He was...very mean to me in high school.” 

“Wasn’t that like a million years ago though?”

“Also. It’s not true,” Scott fake whispers to Evan. “He was actually really nice in high school. Your dad used to go to all his games.”

“Jesus. It was school spirit!” 

“Sure it was,” Scott gathers his trash and stands up. “Okay, break’s over. I have to get back to the clinic. I love you, bubs,” he kisses Evan on the head and, before Stiles can stop him, does the same to him, easily dodging Stiles’ indignant flailing.

“Get off me!” he whines.

Later, when he’s loading a half asleep Evan into the back seat he mumbles. “Everyone deserves a second chance, Dad. That’s what you say.” 

“Yeah,bud. I do. Thanks for the reminder.”

***

The house is a mess. Empty pizza boxes and half empty soda cans litter the living room floor. Evan and Jo are half asleep on the couch with Moana playing on the television. Derek sighs and snaps open the trash bag. 

“Well. That was a pretty epic victory party. Thanks for hosting it,” Stiles has his hands full of plastic cups, and dumps them into the bag with a thump. 

“Yeah,” Derek mumbles. They don’t spend a lot of time alone together and Derek shuffles his feet a little, feeling awkward. The Rock is singing in the background and he smiles, noticing Stiles singing and shaking his hips along with the music.

“You’re welcccoooommmee!” Stiles tosses a few cans into the bag and makes a fist punch. 

Derek raises an eyebrow at him. 

“What?! It’s fucking catchy.” 

“Yeah,” he says again, but this time with a smile. 

They work together to gather up the trash and he hauls the bags out to the can on the curb. He comes back to find Stiles standing in the kitchen with his arms akimbo surveying the damage. 

“I think next season we need to work on cleaning up after ourselves. That’s important for team work. And coaches’ sanity.” 

Derek goes to the sink and begins running the water for dishes. “Next season?”

“Yeah man, don’t tell me you don’t want to?” Stiles looks at him in dismay.

“We don’t exactly get along. I didn’t think you’d want me there.”

Stiles heaves a sigh, leans against the counter and presses his palms against the edge. Derek ignores how the muscles in his forearms flex. 

“We could probably work on teamwork too, huh?”

“I don’t understand what happened,” Derek shrugs. “I don’t mean to start a fight, but…” he trails off.

“I had a huge crush on you in high school,” Stiles flushes red and slaps a hand over his mouth.

Derek stares at him as hard as he can. “What.”

“Um...I just really liked you. I went to all your games and you just ignored me. I don’t know. Maybe I was just projecting, and you brought up all those gross high school memories,” Stiles stares at his feet. 

“What?” Derek feels like his brain isn’t totally online. The words make sense but they can’t be true. 

“Dude. I’m kind of laying myself on the altar of dignity here and you want me to repeat myself,” Stiles exclaims and starts to scoot further away. 

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” Derek manages to blurt. “I thought you...you had this whole thing with Lydia. You talked about her all the time.”

“You remember what I talked about?” 

“I mean. Everyone knew that,” Derek tries for dismissive. 

“Yeah, but you remember,” Stiles is still red but the corner of his mouth is ticked up.

“Okay fine. I had a massive crush on you and you wouldn’t shut up about Lydia fucking Martin. So I avoided you.”

Derek is busy examining the floor and waiting patiently to die of embarrassment, so he doesn’t notice Stiles moving into his space until there are hands on his face, forcing him to look up.

“We are so fucking stupid.” 

They move closer and their lips brush. Derek’s eyes flutter close but before it gets anywhere a sleepy voice interrupts.

“You’re not supposed to say the F-word, Coach S. Swear jar,” Jo is rubbing sleep out of her eyes and her hair is tangled on top of her head. 

Stiles jumps back and clears his throat. “You’re totally right, Jo. I’m sorry.”

“He still has to put money in the jar even though he doesn’t live here right?” Jo looks up at Derek and he laughs. Even though she’s getting too tall for it, he scoops her up and presses her close. She manages to knee him in the ribs before he gets her settled against his chest. But it’s worth it to smell her sweaty kid smell. 

“I think it’s bed time,” he looks over her head at Stiles. “I’ll talk to you later?”

Stiles nods slowly and smiles. Derek smiles back and sighs, feeling relieved. 

“I’ll get Evan and get out of your hair.”

“I mean, you can stay if you want.” 

“Can Evan stay too?” Jo is muffled by his shoulder. 

“Of course, baby. How about we go to bed and I’ll make you snowman pancakes in the morning?” 

She nods and almost immediately goes limp and starts snoring in his ear. 

They manage to get both kids into the guest bed with only minimal fussing, quietly making their way back downstairs. 

Stiles flops down onto the couch and makes grabby hands at Derek. Derek sighs and rolls his eyes but complies. He lays himself gently down on top of Stiles and finds his mouth again. It’s tentative at first, and it takes a few minutes before Derek can relax. He presses Stiles further into the couch and bites at his lip. 

“Fuck,” Stiles wiggles and gasps when their cocks brush against each other. “Wait. Wait,” he pushes at Derek’s shoulders.

Derek ignores him in favor of sucking marks onto the skin right above Stiles’ collar bones, while Stiles makes greedy little noises in his ear. 

“Seriously, dude,” Stiles manages to gasp out, pressing his knee hard into Derek’s side. 

Derek buries his face in Stiles’ neck and breathes wetly, as Stiles laughs, petting his hair and letting him grumble for a minute.

“I’m sorry, dude. But I’m all in my head and I can’t enjoy it. And I really, really want to enjoy this,” he punctuates it with a little roll of his hips. Derek groans and sits up far enough to glare at Stiles. 

“You’re not helping.”

Stiles holds his hands up in surrender and grins. “I’m sorry. I just...I mean...I don’t want to be that guy but...” he chews on his bottom lip and tilts his head down.

“Stiles, spit it out,” Derek does his best to hold still, but he wants to shake it out of Stiles and tell him to stop wasting time. He actually can’t remember the last time someone else touched his dick. 

“Is this a one time thing? I mean, it’s cool if it is. No. Nope. It’s not. I lied. It’s not cool if it is. I don’t think I can handle that. So you gotta tell me. Let me down easy though, okay?” he takes a gulp of air and screws up his face like he’s preparing for a hit in the face.

“Stiles,” Derek replies slowly. “This is _not_ a one night stand. I want to do this every night. If you’ll let me.”

“Well, every night seems like a lot, dude. I’m not a teenager anymore. Can we just cuddle sometimes?” Stiles smirks up at him, and Derek wants to destroy him.

“Shut up,” he growls and hitches Stiles’ legs up further to wrap around his hips and kisses the words out of his mouth.

***

John is sprawled out across the carpet with Jo and Evan flanking his sides. It’d been demanded that he color with them and he hadn’t been given a choice of pictures. He’s currently coloring a horse named Pinky Pie. 

“No, Grandpa. She’s pink, not blue.” 

So he was dutifully wearing down the pink crayon while Jo and Evan chattered around him. 

“Where are your parents?” John asks after a minute. 

“Outside,” Jo replied absently, kicking her feet and selecting a brown crayon from the pile. 

John sighs. They’re probably arguing in the front yard, and he doesn’t relish the idea of getting a noise complaint from nosey Ms. Ellis. It’d be a special kind of embarrassment to have deputies called to his own house. He hauls himself up with some effort, grunting at the ache in his knees. 

“I’ll be right back.”

The kids don’t even respond and he smiles. Maybe he’ll take them for ice cream to get away from their dads’ ridiculous examples. 

He hobbles to the window, shaking out the pins and needles, and twitches the curtain aside. 

Oh, they’re going to get a call from Ms. Ellis for sure. But not for a noise complaint. His son is currently making out with Derek on the hood of his ridiculous flashy car. 

He sighs again and unlocks the window before pushing it open. 

“Get a room!” he bellows across the lawn. His son pops up and starts spluttering. “Don’t argue with me, son. Go away before I call the police.”

They slide off the hood and look sheepishly at him. Stiles lopes up to the window, breathing heavily and red faced.

“Um...I can explain?” he tries.

“Just get off my lawn. I’ll watch the kiddos.”

“Really, Dad? Thank you!” 

“I’m getting them all sugared up before I give them back though,” he shuts the window on Stiles’ dismayed face. 

He claps his hands and asks “Alright, who wants ice cream?”

“With sprinkles?” Evan pops up.

“Ohhhh yes! Whatever you want.”

“How many scoops can we get?” Jo asks suspiciously. 

“Whatever you want,” he repeats.

They both cheer at ear splitting volume and scramble to put on their shoes. 

“What about Dad? Should we ask him if he wants some?” Evan asks.

“I think he’ll be fine,” John chuckles. “It’s about time too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am one half of the blog [Where Did His Eyebrows Go?](http://www.wheredidhiseyebrowsgo.tumblr.com) Come ask us stuff. 
> 
> Prompt: Sterek. Kid fic. Little league. hot dad stiles stilinski helps coach his kid’s co-ed little league team. hot dad derek hale helps coach his kid’s co-ed little league team. Situation one: the two teams are the best in the league and they are huge rivals. stiles and derek snark at each other from their perspective team’s baselines and dugouts. Somewhere along the way they fall in love. Also the kids are totally adorable. Or Situation two: They both help out with the same little league team, and due to practices, games, team BBQ’s, and play groups they fall in love. OR one of them is the coach and the other a dad who watches from the stands, and b/c of practices, … etc they fall in love


End file.
